I’ve cursed it,
this body
for being
more earthen
than gold,
but look how
with its dust
and its dead things
and its darkling
softness
something
even love
might grow
again.
May 20, 2016 by Rosemerry
I’ve cursed it,
this body
for being
more earthen
than gold,
but look how
with its dust
and its dead things
and its darkling
softness
something
even love
might grow
again.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged poem, poetry | 1 Comment
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Love’s compost. The body is an amazing recycling bin 🙂 “it’s darkling softness” –nice.